Oh, tell me, ye breezes that spring from the west, Oh, tell me, ere passing away, If Leichhardt's bold spirit has fled to its rest? Where moulders the traveller's clay? ...
A grace that was lent for a very few hours, By the bountiful Spirit above us; She sleeps like a flower in the land of the flowers, She went ere she knew how to love us....
Where the strength of dry thunder splits hill-rocks asunder, And the shouts of the desert-wind break, By the gullies of deepness and ridges of steepness, Lo, the cattle track twists like a snake!...
As when the strong stream of a wintering sea Rolls round our coast, with bodeful breaks of storm, And swift salt rain, and bitter wind that saith Wild things and woeful of the White South Land...
What bitter sorrow courses down Yon mourner's faded cheek? Those scalding drops betray a grief Within, too full to speak. Outspoken words cannot express The pangs, the pains of years;...
Ah! the solace in the sitting, Sitting by the fire, When the wind without is calling And the fourfold clouds are falling, With the rain-racks intermitting, Over slope and spire....
While the morning light beams on the fern-matted streams, And the water-pools flash in its glow, Down the ridges we fly, with a loud ringing cry Down the ridges and gullies we go!...
In dark wild woods, where the lone owl broods And the dingoes nightly yell Where the curlew's cry goes floating by, We splitters of shingles dwell. And all day through, from the time of the dew...
Chaotic crags are huddled east and west Dark, heavy crags, against a straitened sea That cometh, like a troubled soul in quest Of voiceless rest where never dwelleth rest,...
'There were but two, and we were forty! Yet,' The Captain wrote, 'that dauntless couple throve, And faced our wildering faces; and I said 'Lie to awhile!' I did not choose to let...
Where is the painter who shall paint for you, My Austral brothers, with a pencil steeped In hues of Truth, the weather-smitten crew Who gazed on unknown shores a thoughtful few...
'Tis holy ground! The silent silver lights And darks undreamed of, falling year by year Upon his sleep, in soft Australian nights, Are joys enough for him who lieth here...
Dark days have passed, but you who taught me then To look upon the world with trustful eyes, Are not forgotten! Quick to sympathise With noble thoughts, I've dreamt of moments when...
Shades of my father, the hour is approaching. Prepare ye the 'cava' for 'Yona' on high; Make ready the welcome, ye souls of Arrochin. The Death God of Tanna speaks Yona must die. ...
How dazzling the sunbeams awoke on the spray, When Australia first rose in the distance away, As welcome to us on the deck of the bark, As the dove to the vision of those in the ark!...
The first fair month! In singing Summer's sphere She glows, the eldest daughter of the year. All light, all warmth, all passion, breaths of myrrh, And subtle hints of rose-lands, come with her....
She knelt by the dead, in her passionate grief, Beneath a weird forest of Tanna; She kissed the stern brow of her father and chief, And cursed the dark race of Alkanna....
From the runs of the Narran, wide-dotted with sheep, And loud with the lowing of cattle, We speed for a land where the strange forests sleep And the hidden creeks bubble and brattle!...